One Good Deed
by siroccomo
Summary: Trouble comes knocking at the Lancers' door...
1. Chapter 1

One Good Deed…

Chapter 1

Between mouthfuls of potato Johnny repeated the disturbing conversation he had had earlier with Ethan Morgan, a neighbouring rancher. The young mans father and brother listened intently; the elder Lancer's countenance soon darkening in anger.

"Rustlers!" Murdoch spat the word with heartfelt contempt. He considered such thieves a pestilence on the land, a scourge almost on a par with drought and disease. Mother Nature was a worthy friend and a mightier foe. Working with or defeating such a force gave a man a sense of achievement but vying with the unscrupulous? No! That was something Murdoch Lancer deeply resented.

The rancher would never begrudge a hungry man meat but in his experience it was rarely done to fill an empty belly, rather to line some idlers pocket. Lancer had been built with blood, sweat and tears and he'd be damned if he was going to let anyone brazenly take something they had no right to.

"We'd best bring the herd down from the north pasture, double the watch. I'm not prepared to lose even one beef." The rancher growled leaving his sons in no doubt of his resolve.

"I don't think they'll hit us." Scott reasoned "From what Johnny said they seem to be concentrating on the smaller spreads, deliberately targeting the most vulnerable stock."

Murdoch contemplated his son's words "Yes, the easy pickings! The smaller outfits just don't have the manpower needed and they certainly lack the financial security to cover any losses incurred."

Johnny nodded in agreement "Ethan said any major loss this close to the drive would cripple him financially…"

A loud rap at the front door brought the suppertime conversation to an abrupt halt. Setting down his fork Johnny rose to his feet, the dark haired Lancer's gait quickening a little as the knock came again. The apparent urgency in the callers demand had all eyes focused on the doorway, widening in alarm when the younger Lancer son took a step backwards and raised his hands asking "What's this about?"

Murdoch and his elder son watched with bated breath as a stout middle aged man stepped into view, piercing blue eyes stared out from his tanned, rugged face. The stranger held a rifle, the business end just inches from Johnny's chest.

"What do you want?" The rancher's voice cut through the tense silence, drawing the attention of the older man.

"A little of your hospitality" the intruder replied sarcastically before gesturing to the youngest Lancer to join the other two men.

As Johnny edged backwards the French doors swung open and from the kitchen came the sound of hurried and unknown footsteps, soon three more men had entered the great room, two with guns drawn the third carrying a limp form in his arms.

The first man barked out a string of instructions all of which were followed instantly. The seemingly injured member of the group carefully positioned on the couch while the Lancers' hands were bound and they then instructed to sit on the floor, backs to the empty hearth. Although Murdoch had insisted no one else was home, the hacienda was quickly searched by two of the men.

All three Lancers stared over at the couch, surprised by the age of the figure lying there and dismayed at his physical condition. The youth had obviously been shot and the shoulder wound continued to seep life, staining his blue shirt a harrowing crimson. Pain filled blue eyes flickered open and struggled to focus on the three strangers.

"That boy needs a doctor." Murdoch addressed his captor, genuine concern ringing in his voice.

A questioning gaze met his. "There one in these parts?"

"About an hours ride…" Murdoch began silenced by the shake of the other mans head.

"Can't wait that long."

The patriarch directed the older man to the medical supplies in the kitchen then along with his sons silently watched the drama unfolding before them.

The supper table was unceremoniously cleared, its contents swept ruthlessly onto the floor. The injured boy was then moved to the table groaning pitifully as pain washed over him in sickening waves. The tall flaxen haired man, who'd gently eased him onto the table, gripped his hand and whispered something in his ear while another one of the gang, another blond, pressed a bottle of Murdoch's finest malt to his lips.

As the fiery liquid stung the back of the youth's dry throat he began to cough violently, finally clamping his mouth shut he refused to take any more. Impatiently the leader snatched the bottle and poured a liberal amount over the knife he was holding, then after ordering the boy be held down he trickled the liquor over the now exposed wound. Without hesitation he began cutting into the already torn and bruised flesh, digging ever deeper for the bullet imbedded there. The boy struggled and bucked against the torture, his efforts futile against the strength and determination of the two men restraining him.

"Please pa, please. Please stop!" The boy begged weakly.

Several long tortuous minutes passed then the boy fell silent. The fifth stranger, tall and dark haired, his gun trained on the Lancers looked desperately over at the table. "Pa?"

Through gritted teeth came the reply "He's passed out!"

A sense of relief reverberated around the great room; all present thankful the boy's suffering was for now at least over. As a desperate silence replaced the anguished moans and pleas of the boy the Lancers digested the words that had so far been exchanged between the intruders. It seemed they were a family, a father and four sons. Worryingly they were on the run; a posse hot on their tail.

Despite the intrusion and hostility shown he and his family, Murdoch's heart went out to his captor. The patriarch shuddered as a memory eclipsed all other thoughts, that of removing a bullet from his own sons back. It had been an agonizing ordeal for the young man, he'd been too stubborn to pass out a second time, clinging tenaciously to consciousness as his father had cut into his raw and tender flesh. It had been almost as much of an ordeal for Murdoch himself, inflicting pain on a loved one, and fearing for their life at the very same time.

Day Pardee's bullet had almost killed Johnny; he'd hovered between life and death for two endless fever filled days. The wounded boy looked to have lost a lot of blood, and appeared much weaker than Johnny had been. Murdoch couldn't help but fear the worst. As that unspeakable thought took hold another nudged for acknowledgment. How would this father cope with such a loss?

A triumphant grunt jolted Murdoch out of his reverie and he watched as a misshapen ball of lead was hurled to the floor. With the removal of the bullet the atmosphere in the room lightened a little more and Murdoch found himself studying his contemporary. The grim set features showed no trace of emotion, no evidence of concern or fear but the elder Lancer knew they had to be there, hidden somewhere deep inside. Murdoch hadn't been so in control, his hands had trembled and he'd had to stop and compose himself. He had offered up a silent prayer and taking strength from that and the presence of his elder son he had managed to stop the bleeding and close the wound. Turning his head to the side the eldest Lancer let his gaze rest briefly on his younger son, suddenly needing some confirmation that he'd done all he could for his boy that day.

"Thanks Old Man!" Johnny had whispered weakly before closing his eyes and succumbing to sleep. The words had held no warmth back then; the boy had simply been thanking a stranger for doing what was necessary to save his life. The young man had been unaware of his father's anguish, didn't…couldn't understand it was love for his son that had fortified him in his actions that day.

The injured boy's plight once again drew his attention; his siblings were now hurriedly bandaging the wound as their father made his way back into the kitchen to wash his hands of blood.

Gun still trained on the Lancers the dark haired man sidled over to his brothers, gently touching the unconscious boy's face, concern clouding his handsome features. Casting a wary eye in the direction his father had left the room he voiced his concerns to the other men. "Jesse ain't up ta sittin' a horse!"

"Try tellin' Pa that Joe!" The smaller of the two blond men snapped back as he carefully eased the boy into his arms, to then deposit his burden just as carefully back down onto the couch.

The gunmen turned to the other blond "You talk to him Sam, he'll listen ta you!"

The taller man grasped hold of the discarded whisky bottle and gulped down some of its contents before answering "He ain't gonna want to hold up here, we'd be sittin ducks and you know it."

"You could leave the boy here!" Murdoch interjected, voicing the offer without a second thought. The intruders' eyes all settled on him.

"No!" A deep voice boomed from the doorway.

Murdoch craned his head around staring into the anger filled eyes of the older man "We'll take good care of your son. I give you my word. My word as a father."

The stranger strode further into the room eyeing the patriarch suspiciously "And when the law comes knockin' on ya door…"

"The law can be reasoned with. What wrong has the boy done?" Murdoch asked keeping his tone even.

"He's done nothin' wrong…" The boy's dark haired brother replied adding a hesitant "ceptin ride with us!"

"Then he has nothing to fear from the law. The law is fair and just in these parts. The Sheriff's a good, decent man…"

"I don't like it…" the boy's father began dismissively. "I ain't leavin'Jesse with strangers…"

"Think about it." Scott insisted but before he could continue his argument his brother voiced what they were all thinking "The boy either rests up here till he's well or he bleeds ta death in the saddle." Pausing briefly Johnny added softly "I know what I'd do if he were my brother."

An uncomfortable silence descended around the room. The stranger moved towards the couch and stared down at his unconscious son, reason now battling with mistrust. Decision made he turned towards Murdoch "Alright. He's got more of a chance here but if you…"

"I gave you my word." Murdoch insisted holding the other mans gaze. Eager to get the intruders on their way he continued "Help yourself to fresh horses, supplies, take whatever you need."

Without another word to Murdoch the older man delegated the necessary tasks to his sons, and as they hastily prepared to leave, he sat down on the arm of the couch. Tousling his sons hair he whispered "I'll send for ya boy. I promise."

TBC

Molly


	2. Chapter 2

One Good Deed…

Chapter 2

The Lancer patriarch listened to the faint chimes of the grandfather clock and yawned wearily. It was three in the morning, dawn still an hour or so away. The hacienda stood quiet and still, all inhabitants abed accept for him.

Not that Murdoch begrudged the time he'd spent in the armchair, long solitary hours broken only by spells of pacing the floor. No, his young charge had needed a close and constant eye kept on him, somebody nearby should his condition deteriorate or he wake and be in need of anything. So far the blue eyes had remained shuttered, the boy lost in a deep and hopefully healing sleep.

As much as he hoped to see the youth wake Murdoch dreaded having to tell him of the loss he had suffered. The boy was old enough to understand why his father had left him in someone else's care, parting with that information didn't really trouble him, he'd handle it the best way he could. What really worried him and what had fueled his anxious pacing was having to tell Jesse he had lost a brother.

The rancher's thoughts again returned to the ugliness of the previous evening. As he and his elder son had settled the unconscious boy in a guest room, they had heard gunshots somewhere off in the distance. Both had guessed what was happening and had hurried back downstairs, this time armed and ready for whoever came to the door. They had taken it in turns to check on their unexpected guest, he had slept on, mercifully oblivious to everything that was happening around him including the heated exchange that would later take place in the great room.

The Lancer's had expected a posse, one led by a lawman but the horses who thundered into the courtyard carried men who could only be described as vigilantes. The self elected leader a surprise to both men, Ethan Morgan. Slung over the back of a dapple grey, like some hunting trophy was a body. Closer examination by Scott confirming it to be that of one of the intruders, the tallest of Jesse's siblings.

Murdoch had been completely honest with the men, declaring the boys presence and his intention to get him well. Angry and bitter words had been hurled at the patriarch, the rancher had kept his calm, but it wasn't just fair-mindedness that had won the day. Johnny had long since rode into town to inform Sheriff Val Crawford of the situation, and the fact the law was now involved had helped the irate ranchers see sense. They had ridden quietly away but neither Scott nor Murdoch believed they had seen the last of them.

Johnny had returned a little later with Val and Doctor Sam Jenkins. Learning of the latest developments the sheriff had headed swiftly over to the Morgan ranch.

Sam had shaken his head on seeing the boy. "He's very young! What was his father thinking? Rustling's a dangerous game. Taking a child along well…words fail me!"

Murdoch hadn't been able to comprehend the situation either, how anyone could so wantonly endanger their own child's life. Still, he didn't know their circumstances and although nothing could excuse such actions the patriarch had seen enough in his life to know they might very well explain them.

The doctor thought the boy to be no older than fourteen, and although on the skinny side he believed him to have been in good health prior to being shot. That one fact would, Sam hoped, prove beneficial to his recovery. Finding the wound clean and the seepage minimal he had decided to leave well alone, promising to return daily to check on the patient.

A sudden cramp in his leg brought the patriarchs thoughts back to the present, grimacing he rose stiffly to his feet, taking a few tentative steps towards the window where he stared out at the night sky. Lost in the beauty of the heavens he missed the soft click of the door, turning around only on hearing his son's voice.

"Mornin"

Murdoch couldn't help but smile, the youngest Lancer stood in the doorway clad only in his pants. Slung over his bare shoulder was proof of the young mans readiness for trouble. The patriarch ignored the Colt nestling in its holster and tried to lighten the mood. "A little early for you isn't it?"

The blue eyes twinkled mischievously "And a little late for you Old Man." Turning towards the bed the brunet studied the boy laying there "Any change?"

"No, thankfully there's no sign of fever."

Padding softly over to stand beside his father the younger man gestured towards the door "Go get some sleep; I'll sit with him."

"No, you go on back to bed John. You've got a hard days work ahead of you."

Taken aback by his father's comment Johnny looked up at the older man "I was plannin' on staying closer ta home today!"

"I think it best we carry on as normal. The boy could be with us some time and I don't want my home turned into a…a fortress for the duration. We've done nothing wrong and as far as we know neither has he."

The blues eyes once more settled on the boy, the kid certainly looked a picture of innocence, just how innocent they were yet to find out. Still, Sam had voiced some stark facts the night before, nothing they hadn't already figured out for themselves of course, but somehow the observation carried more weight coming from an unbiased eye.

As the doctor and Murdoch had joined the Lancer siblings by the kitchen table Johnny had asked "How's the kid doin' Sam?"

"Not too bad considering. Better than his brother at least!"

The comment had caused a solemn silence to fall around the table one Sam seemed determined to take full advantage of.

"You know whatever way you look at it, that boy upstairs spells trouble for Lancer…"

"Sam I know what you're going to say…" Murdoch had begun only to be silenced by a withering look from the doctor.

"I'm sure you do but I'm going to say it anyway! I'll sleep better knowing I've said my piece."

Satisfied he had everyone's full attention the doctor continued "Folks aren't going to be able to forget he was running with rustlers, he's in for a rough ride, you too. Most people aren't as charitable or as forgiving as you! Then there's the little matter of his kin, there's no guarantee they won't come back wanting revenge…"

"I have thought it through Sam." Murdoch interrupted determined to assure his old friend that no matter how it looked he wasn't marching blindly into the unknown. "I can only do what I believe is right and right now it's doing what I can to help that boy…"

"I'd expect nothing less of you Murdoch but…" Sam shrugged "…doing the right thing sometimes has a price…it can cost a man dearly!"

//Wasn't that the truth// Johnny could remember thinking, certain Murdoch's actions had already cost him Ethan's friendship. By not offering the kind of support expected of him he'd set himself apart, distancing himself still further by willingly caring for a member of the gang the vigilantes had been determined to lynch.

The Old Man hadn't asked for his sons' backing, but then he hadn't needed to, they saw things the very same way…mostly! Johnny wasn't so sure about carrying on as normal, not when feelings were running so high.

"I say we play it safe for the next few days, see what happens?"

Before the older man could respond his attention was drawn to the boy, he was beginning to stir, a soft moan escaping his lips. Father and son moved over to the bed, both sets of eyes fixed expectantly on the young face.

"Jesse" Murdoch called softly.

Heavy eyelids fluttered open "Pa?"

"No." Murdoch moved a little closer "Your father isn't here."

The blue eyes scoured the dimly lit room before settling warily on the two strangers.

"He had to leave…"

"He wouldn't…he wouldn't leave me." The boy protested, suspicion and fear igniting in his eyes.

"He did what was best for you. He left you in my care, I promised him I would look after you and that's exactly what I intend to do. My names Murdoch Lancer, this is my son Johnny, you will be staying here until you are well."

Johnny recognized the no-nonsense tone in his father's voice and it seemed the boy understood the parental ring of authority too; seemingly resigned to his fate he turned his head away from the two men.

Murdoch breathed a sigh of relief, that had been easier than expected, but then the boy was injured, pitifully weak, lacking even the strength to lift his head off the pillow. He might not be so compliant in a few days time. The rancher glanced at his son, the younger man flashing him a sympathetic smile in return, he too certain the situation could only get a whole lot more complicated from there on in.

TBC

Molly


	3. Chapter 3

One Good Deed…

Chapter 3

"He took the broth." Scott stated with some satisfaction as he set an empty bowl down onto the kitchen table.

"Did he say anything?" Murdoch asked hopefully.

"Nothing except 'thank you' " The blond replied, as he sat down beside his brother he added "He ignored all my attempts at conversation."

Johnny looked across the table at his father "Well if he won't speak ta us he ain't gonna open his mouth ta Val!"

The older man frowned "It's important he does. So far the sheriffs had three differing accounts of what happened last night. Ethan's, Mel James' and Don Lowe's!"

Seeing the perplexed look on his older sons face the patriarch went on to explain "Val called by when you were with Jesse, he wanted to see how the boy was, if he was up to being questioned."

Scott raised an eyebrow "Their stories don't tally?"

"No. Val thinks Ethan's lying."

"Val said that?" Scott asked a little surprised by his brother's comment.

"Not outright but I know he's thinkin' it, he's sniffin' round like some hungry bloodhound!"

The patriarch nodded thoughtfully "I think Ethan may have acted too hastily last night, went after the wrong men…"

"But Jesse's father! Brothers! They were all running from some wrong doing?" The blond tried to make sense of his father's reasoning.

"Yes but was it rustling? I've been going over the conversation they were having, clearly they were on the run but I think it was from something else."

"And they just happened ta be in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Johnny surmised.

"It's possible." The rancher found it unpalatable but then so was the idea the boy's family were rustlers. "We don't know anything for sure. That's why it's so important we hear Jesse's side of things. John…" Murdoch paused before hesitantly voicing his next thought "I want you to talk to him…"

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Johnny stared at the bedroom door, absently chewing his lower lip. According to his father he had a way with kids, hadn't he known how to reach little Alice and Andy? No! He hadn't known, he'd simply felt his way and he'd made mistakes too!

All he knew for sure was that Jesse was in trouble and he knew how lonely a place that could be. He smiled wryly to himself, that was what his father had meant, that he understood and understanding a problem was half way to solving it!

Stepping purposefully into the room he was alarmed to find the bed empty, relief flowing quickly through him a second later on seeing the boy standing just feet away, rummaging through a dresser drawer.

"What are you doing out of bed?"

"Looking for my clothes." Came a decidedly irritable reply.

"Well ya won't find 'em in there. Not that ya gonna be needing them anytime soon!" Johnny replied stepping further into the room and closing the door behind him

The boy slammed the drawer shut and eyed the older man determinedly. "I want my clothes!"

The brunet stared back concern growing for the youth, beads of pain induced perspiration glistened on his face and he swayed unsteadily, Johnny was sure stubbornness was all that was keeping the kid up on his feet.

"Ya can have 'em when ya well enough ta wear 'em. Another couple of days and…"

"No! I want them now."

Johnny could hear desperation in the boy's voice and guessed at the urgency behind it. "You won't catch up with ya pa now; he said he'd send for ya…"

Suspicion flared in the boy's eyes "And ya just gonna let me go when he does?"

"That's our intention…" Johnny began, wanting to reassure the boy but realizing at the same time it might not be so easy a promise to keep. "You've got to trust us Jesse just like ya father did! Leavin' ya here was a very difficult decision for him to make but he knew it was the right one, and he'd want ya to respect it."

The boy averted his gaze, the blue eyes glancing out through the window before settling on the bed. Johnny watched silently as the youth seemed to contemplate his words hoping he'd said the right thing. It seemed he had for a minute or so later Jesse was once again nestled against a mound of pillows.

Resentment oozed from the boy but the brunet wasn't prepared to let it continue. "Hey come on. The next few weeks will go a whole lot quicker if ya loosen up a little! It ain't so bad here; we ain't so bad either not when ya get ta know us."

Perched on the side of the bed Johnny continued "Murdoch he likes ta think he's the boss but…well that's because he is I guess!" Johnny laughed softly finding his statement amusing, the boy's glacial stare sobered him up quickly. "Scott he, well he's much like your brothers I guess! Me, I'm like you, the youngest in the family…"

"They treat you like a kid?"

The question surprised Johnny he hadn't expected the kid to thaw so quickly. He found himself smiling and then nodding because it certainly felt like they did sometimes "Yeah! Yeah they do! You have the same problem huh?"

"Yeah and I'm almost fifteen!"

"It rankles at any age Jesse but well, ya just have ta tell yerself it's only because they care!"

The boy glanced down at his hands hiding a rush of emotion before steering the conversation onto safer ground "You just got one brother Johnny?"

"Yeah, Scott."

"Scott looks a bit like Sam. Sam's the eldest." The boy explained obvious affection in his voice.

Johnny could only nod, mentally kicking himself for letting the conversation drift onto the subject of brothers. Jesse was yet to find out one of his was dead. With a sickening jolt he realized that it was the brother the boy was now speaking about. He bowed his head scared the kid would see the truth in his eyes but then that seemed the wrong thing to do too so he met the now questioning gaze. "Jesse, there's something you need ta know…"

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Murdoch watched his younger son help himself to a glass of whisky. It wasn't Johnny's normal tipple and he rarely drank this early in the day, troubled the patriarch strode towards the younger man "John?"

Swallowing the contents of the glass in one hurried gulp Johnny turned around to face his father "I told him about his brother."

"I see…"

"I know you wanted to be the one to do it but…" the brunets voice trailed off and he shrugged not knowing how to explain what had happened.

"No. No it doesn't matter who told him." The patriarch insisted, he had believed it was his responsibility but he knew Johnny would have handled it just as well if not better. "How is he?"

"He cried himself to sleep!"

"That's better than keeping it all inside." The rancher tried to assure his troubled son but the blue eyes glared back at him angrily.

"He's a nice kid Murdoch! I don't want him ta grow up hatin'…"

"It doesn't have to be that way Johnny! Knowing the truth and the right kind of guidance…"

"Yeah the right kind!" Johnny snapped back "but his old man don't seem the type now does he? He's just like Stryker."

"Stryker!" Murdoch repeated the familiar name; it left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. Now he knew why his younger son was so angry. He had to admit Johnny had a point; Jesse's father had or seemed to have a lot in common with Samuel Stryker, they both rode roughshod over their adult sons and lived outside the boundaries of the law but would it really be fair to tar them with the same brush? Something told him that it wouldn't, that for Jesse's sake at least his father shouldn't just be written off.

"That kid doesn't stand a chance Murdoch, not livin' that kind of life. We can't let him go back to it!"

The blue eyes bored into his and the rancher knew his son was waiting for some response from him. At the risk of incensing the younger man still further he began his reasoning "John. We don't know anything about them, how it looks might not be quite the way it is. I want what's best for the boy too but we can't blindly play God here. We need facts, only then can we hope to do the right thing by him!"

The dark head bowed and Murdoch knew his son was weighing up his words. Moving to sit behind his desk he watched as the tension ebbed from the smaller man.

"Ya right I guess." Johnny finally conceded. Raising his head he looked out through the large window and stared at the horizon "It's just…I can't help think it best he never sees or hears from them ever again."

TBC

Molly.


	4. Chapter 4

One Good Deed…

Chapter 4

"Val Crawford's a good man." Johnny had no doubts about that and had for the last half hour been trying to convince a sullen youth of that fact. The boy continued to refuse to speak to the sheriff and the brunet was beginning to think nothing would change his mind "I trust him and so can you…"

"Pa says ya can't trust the law and he's right! It didn't do right by him!"

The boy spoke with a passion, one that made Johnny more than a little curious. Seating himself on Jesse's bed he eyed him thoughtfully certain there had to be a particular reason for the kids last comment "What happened ta make ya think like that?"

"They took our land…" Jesse shot back before clamping his mouth shut, he'd suddenly realized he might be giving something he shouldn't away.

"I see." The youngest Lancer stated softly, he didn't of course, not really, but it had been enough of a hint for him to form the beginnings of a theory. He sat quietly waiting for the boy's troubled gaze to again meet his and when it did he pushed a little more "Tell me what happened Jesse. Maybe there's somethin' we can do ta help?" The youth stared back at him, it was obvious to Johnny his offer of assistance had had some sort of an impact. The pale blue eyes searched his, seemingly wanting to believe in someone.

"My ma's buried there!"

The brief but emotion filled statement took Johnny a little by surprise, it was obviously an important factor in the kids story but it hadn't been quite what he'd expected to hear.

"Pa misses her!" Tears threatened to fall but were determinedly blinked away.

Johnny nodded his understanding, the kid was obviously still grieving for her too.

"He didn't want to leave her there all alone but…" A stray tear trickled down the boys face "…Ben Jacks, he bought up the town, all the surrounding homesteads. Pa wouldn't sell, not with ma there. Then the bank said we owed them money, money we didn't have. Pa knew who was behind it, he tried talking to Jacks and then to the law but Jacks owned the sheriff too. Him and pa argued, the sheriff drew his gun but pa was faster! It was self defense Johnny!"

"So that's what you're running from?"

"Yeah." The boy sank back against the pillows drained by the retelling of the unpleasantness "Pa said the posse wouldn't follow us into California. He thought we could hide out here and plan our next move."

"So what happened the other night?" Johnny pressed eager to hear the rest of it.

"We were hungry, tired. We hadn't eaten or slept properly for days. Pa thought it would be safe enough now though so we made camp. We'd come across a steer earlier that day, it was unbranded so we weren't really stealin' were we Johnny?"

"No" The youngest Lancer quietly agreed, hadn't he put food in his empty belly in the exact same way!

"Next thing I know, there's bullets flyin' all around us. Pa said we had to make a run for it." Gesturing to his wound the boy added "I didn't make it to my horse but Will, he pulled me up onto his. We didn't do anything wrong Johnny. They had no call to kill my brother!"

"No they didn't and that's why ya have to tell Val what ya just told me."

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"Well?" Murdoch demanded as the lawman ambled into the great room.

"Well…" Val scratched his beard thoughtfully "I can't comment on what he says happened in Nevada though I plan on lookin inta his claims! As for the fracas Friday night…well his story certainly has a ring of truth about it!"

"So what ya gonna do about it?" Johnny asked his friend.

"I'll speak ta Mel James, put the kids side ta him, I'm sure he'll crack, lyin' don't come as easy ta him as it does ta Ethan Morgan!"

"It's a messy business." Scott stated sympathetically, the sheriff certainly had his work cut out.

"Yep but I'm gonna enjoy cleanin it up."

The patriarch grinned he didn't doubt that for a second "Well we'll help in any way we can Val."

"Ain't a lot ya can do ceptin look after the boy and lettin me know if ya hear from his pa."

"I'm certain we'll hear from him, he's lost one son he's not about to give up another!"

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Jesse stared around the great room, the memories it held for him although a little vague were decidedly unpleasant. He'd been scared and in considerable pain that night, too frightened to close his eyes incase he never opened them again.

He hadn't wanted to die; he hadn't wanted to let his pa down. "You fight this boy, ya hear me!" The older man had ordered him as they approached the ranch house. He'd never disobeyed his father in his life and he'd had no intentions of doing so then either.

Sam had held his hand and reassured him, quietly like he always did. Just like their ma had done when he was scared. Sam was just like her and Jesse knew that was why his eldest brother had been pa's favorite, now Sam was dead too, his father would be heartbroken.

He was still quite weak, today the first time he'd been allowed downstairs. The Lancers' had promise to take him to his brothers grave when he was strong enough and he was determined to be just that within the next few days, he was equally as determined to be ready to ride the minute he heard from his father.

Murdoch Lancer had promised to have his lawyer look into Ben Jacks and his dealings, the older man had said it would take time and might not be something that could be easily resolved but he at least had been prepared to listen and had gone on to promise to do everything in his power to help put the situation right. It was a darn sight more than anyone else had done, but then folk back home had been too scared to help the Hughes family.

Mr Lancer had been convinced the only way forward was through legal means, believing that that was the only possible way of getting a fair hearing. Jesse knew his father had lost all faith in the law, it wasn't going to be easy persuading him around to the rancher's way of thinking.

Jesse liked Murdoch Lancer, his sons too; they had been good to him and he trusted them like his father appeared to have done the night he left him in their care. Surely he would listen to their advice and accept the help they offered so willingly now? He dearly hoped so, it made sense to him and if it meant no one else in his family would get hurt then surely it was the right thing to do.

A sudden loud pounding on the front door startled him and Jesse looked towards it knowing trouble almost certainly stood the other side. Seconds late Scott was striding into the room from the kitchen, the blond glancing in is direction and instructing him to stay where he was.

He was seated by the fireplace, from there he couldn't see the man the blond was now talking to but he could hear the anger in the stranger's voice. The conversation was about him, about the lies he had told the sheriff.

But he hadn't told any lies! His mother had raised him to always tell the truth and that's exactly what he'd done. The stranger was growing increasingly more angry, his voice now drowning out Scott's calm reasoning. The sound of a struggle forced Jesse to his feet and towards the hallway but before he'd even made it half way the struggle had become a fist fight, the eldest Lancer son was now defending him physically.

"Hey mister, it's me ya want!" Jesse shouted trying desperately to get the strangers attention. But it was the blond who turned in his direction, his nose bleeding heavily Scott ordered him up to his room and to lock the door behind him. That momentary lapse of concentration was to cost Scott dearly, it allowed the stranger's next blow to make contact with its target, rendering his opponent unconscious and sending him crashing to the floor.

The irate man stepped over Scott's limp form and was now moving menacingly towards him, as scared as he was Jesse stood his ground "I told the sheriff the truth." The defiant statement earned him a brutal punch to the face and like Scott he crumpled to the floor, dazed he struggled to get to his feet but a booted foot made sure he didn't get any further than his knees. He closed his eyes against the pain, it was then he heard the sound of a gun being cocked, seconds later everything went black.

TBC

Molly


	5. Chapter 5

Sincere thanks to my inspirational beta, Con.

One Good Deed

Chapter 5

The bullet whistled past Ethan Morgan's right ear and embedded itself in the wall above the fireplace. A verbal warning had preceded the shot; but when the rancher had failed to respond as bid, Johnny had quickly backed up his threat by delivering the kind of warning the older man could not ignore.

A tense few seconds passed before Morgan finally eased his gun from its holster, dropping it on the floor, just as the Lancer patriarch hurried into the great room.

Murdoch took in the scene with horror. His eyes drawn first to his fallen elder son and then over towards the young boy, who had been placed in his care. Both lay motionless on the floor. Scott by the door, Jesse at Ethan's feet. It was glaringly obvious who was responsible for both casualties, and Murdoch had to force down a rapidly growing sense of outrage. A swift glance in Johnny's direction told him the young man had the situation under control, so Murdoch holstered his own gun then crouched down beside Scott before moving over to where Jesse lay, assessing both young men's condition with a pair of gentle hands and a set of anxious eyes.

His hands now raised in surrender, Morgan turned around, ignoring the now kneeling Lancer patriarch as he did so. Letting his eyes settle on the youngest Lancer he spat an angry "The devil sure takes care of his own!"

"That boy hasn't done anything wrong." Johnny replied icily

"And you would know right from wrong wouldn't ya Madrid?" Morgan volleyed derisively.

"Ethan!" Murdoch snarled angrily as he quickly got to his feet. Seething inside, he glared in utter disgust at Morgan, barely able to recognise the angry hateful man that stood beside him.

Hurried footsteps shattered the ugly silence, and soon several armed vaqueros thundered into the room; the gunshot having alerted them to trouble. Not trusting himself to deal fairly with Morgan at that moment in time, Murdoch instructed his men to take the intruder outside to the old guardhouse. His orders were followed instantly and without question.

As Ethan Morgan was forcibly led away, he let loose a torrent of verbal abuse, in which he accused the Lancer family of sheltering a rustler and threatening revenge. Father and son ignored the hate and filth being hurled in their direction, as they tended to the victims of their neighbour's unprecedented rage.

JMLJMLJML

The tall rancher strode into the kitchen and set about making a pot of coffee. Minutes later, just as he set two mugs of the steaming brew down onto the table, he was joined by Sam Jenkins.

The doctor pulled out a chair and eased himself down upon it and eyeing the younger man he said, "I think his pride's hurting a lot more than his jaw!"

Murdoch smiled faintly at the doctors attempt to reassure him as to his older son's condition, with some wry humour.

"I'm sure it is, but we both know Scott didn't stand a chance where Ethan was concerned!"

A picture of his son's assailant formed before Murdoch's mind's eye. Morgan was a bull of a man, heavy set, with hands like spades, which his quick temper readily turned into fists of iron! Today he had used those fists not only on Scott, but also on a fourteen-year-old boy.

Taking a tentative sip of his coffee Sam shook his head "Ethan's brother always said his temper would get him hung!"

Murdoch nodded in agreement, as he remembered Tom Morgan saying much the same thing to him once. In a dismayed tone he said, "Ethan acted like a man possessed! I dread to think what would have happened if Johnny hadn't arrived when he did."

Sam frowned "I can't believe Morgan thought he could just ride in here and beat what he wanted to hear out of that boy!"

"Well he did!" Growled Murdoch, once more incensed by his neighbour's actions. His head moving from side to side in disbelief he spoke his thoughts aloud "He told Scott the boy was lying and he knew just how to loosen his tongue!"

The doctor grasped his friend's arm and squeezed reassuringly. As Sam looked at Murdoch, he realized that Morgan's actions had shaken the rancher a lot more than he would ever admit, even to himself.

"Well they're both going to be fine." It was a statement Dr. Jenkins could make quite confidently, having just examined both young men thoroughly. The two of them had regained consciousness before he'd got there. Jesse had been still a little dazed, but Scott was by that time doing fine albeit angry at himself for failing to prevent Morgan's assault on the boy.

Murdoch blew out a heavy sigh as he struggled to rein in his emotions.

"Sorry Sam. It's just…well…seeing Scott lying there and Jesse! I gave that boy's father my word…" The patriarch paused then snorted scornfully before continuing in a mocking tone "I gave him my word as a father! I promised to look after his son!"

"Murdoch…" Sam began, not liking the direction the conversation seemed to be heading.

"What was I thinking…" the rancher continued, lost now in a world of self reproach; one he'd inhabited many times over the last twenty years "I couldn't keep my own son safe…so what the hell was I thinking?"

Tightening his grip on Murdoch's arm Sam stated firmly "He couldn't have left that boy in safer hands! I know that and so do you!"

Troubled brown eyes slowly met the doctor's steady gaze, and the certainty he saw in that gaze jolted the bigger man out of his despondency. He pushed aside the ensuing sense of embarrassment, knowing Sam had witnessed much the same show of emotion from him before, several times in fact.

But now certainly wasn't a good time to dwell on the past: on his failure to find his younger son; or his failing to bring Scott home for that matter. He had failed them both in so many ways, but God knows it hadn't been deliberate on his part! He had tried so damn hard, done all he possible could, but matters had been snatched out of his control. He had been wronged too, thwarted at every turn in both his search for Johnny and his attempts to gain custody of Scott.

'Stop it!' He told himself, as his thoughts darkened still further 'don't go there now.' Making a conscious effort to change the subject Murdoch gestured outside "Val's been out there a long time."

Sam chuckled unable to hide his mirth. He much admired the sheriff; found him an honest and honourable man. But where he himself didn't beat about the bush, he found Val had a tendency to deliberate a point to the extreme. Sobering under his friend's questioning gaze the doctor cleared his throat and replied "Val's thorough…in his own way!"

Now it was Murdoch's turn to laugh, knowing exactly what the older man was intimating.

As the atmosphere in the kitchen lightened a little, the back door opened and the youngest Lancer stepped into the room.

"How're they doing?" Johnny asked the doctor as he joined the two men at the table.

"They are doing fine." Sam smiled reassuringly.

Before the brunet had a chance to respond, his father asked "What did Ethan have to say for himself?"

Johnny's face hardened and he unconsciously sat back in his chair readying himself for the explosion he knew was coming.

"He told Val he came here to hear Jesse's side of things and that Scott got lippy with him and threw the first punch…"

Thunderclouds were beginning to mass on his fathers face and Johnny hesitated briefly before continuing "…he said that Jesse sassed him, and tried his hand too and that he was simply defending himself…"

"Don't tell me Val believed him?" The patriarch roared, his voice echoing around the room, causing both Johnny and Sam to visibly cringe.

"Well…" Johnny paused, knowing his father's reaction to his next statement would probably outdo his own outburst when Val had told it to him.

"Well what?" Murdoch demanded impatiently.

"It seems its Scott's word against Ethan's…"

"And Jesse's!" Murdoch insisted.

"He's a minor and…"

Johnny hurriedly jumped to his feet to block the exit, as Murdoch lurched to his feet and headed for the door.

"He's gone Murdoch. He'll be halfway home by now!"

Glaring down at the younger man Murdoch snarled "And Val?"

"He's riding with him, making sure he gets where he's supposed to be going."

Believing Murdoch was not going anywhere; Johnny eased himself past his father and gazed over at the doctor who had sat silently throughout the exchange. Sam gave him a reassuring nod and gestured to a chair; Johnny slumped dejectedly down onto it and waited with bated breath for his father to also sit back down.

"Damn him!" Murdoch thundered as he stormed back to the table "He can't be allowed to get away with it! He's gotten away with too much already!"

"Val ain't happy either. He knows Morgan's lying but he's got to do things by the book." Johnny told the older man hoping it would prove some small consolation.

"Did Val speak to the other men who were riding with Morgan the night Jesse was shot and his brother killed?" Sam asked, as he had not so far been brought up to date on that line of enquiry.

"Yes he did…" Murdoch snapped bitterly, while lowering his huge frame down onto the chair he'd so recently angrily vacated.

"…and although their stories differed initially, it seems the very real possibility of having a murder charge hanging over their heads has made them close ranks."

"Then why did Ethan seek out Jesse? I mean if he's so sure he can get away with…"

"Hedging his bets maybe?" The patriarch interjected, as he shook his head ruefully "God knows Sam; the man's a law to himself!"

JMLJMLJML

"You sure you're alright Scott?" Jesse asked quietly. The older man sat beside his bed, intent it seemed on keeping him company.

The blond smiled back at him before offering some words of reassurance. The bruises on the older man's face told a different story, however, one that tugged at the boy's conscience.

Jesse thought his presence was causing the Lancer family a heap of trouble, but he wasn't sure what he should do about it. Mr. Lancer didn't think his pa would get in touch for a while yet, certain he'd want to allow him enough time to recover. The young man wondered just how long his pa was prepared to leave him there?

'What if his pa didn't send for him? What if…'

"Jesse? Is there something on your mind?"

A soft voice roused him from his troubling thoughts and he stared into a set of questioning blue eyes. Scott reminded him so much of his oldest brother. He was kind and gentle just like Sam had been, and they both possessed the same quiet strength and courage. It hurt to think about Sam, knowing he'd never see him again. What hurt more though, was knowing that his brother died because of him!

If they all hadn't had to stop at the ranch they could have got clean away. Sam would still be alive now. Hot tears stung his eyes and he blinked them away as his next thought compounded his grief. 'What if his pa blamed him for Sam's death?'

"Jesse! What is it?" The blond Lancer moved quickly to sit on the boy's bed, the brunet's sudden distress alarming him.

"Do you think my Pa will send for me Scott?"

The words had gushed from the youth's lips and his eyes had beseeched the older man for reassurance of some kind. Scott had realized immediately how scared and insecure the boy was now feeling. Having no reason to doubt Jesse's father's intentions he squeezed the boys hand and offered a confident "Of course he will!"

TBC

Molly


	6. Chapter 6

Sincere thanks to my beta, Con.

One Good Deed

Chapter 6

Murdoch had been in bed about half an hour and was almost asleep when Jesse's cries stirred him from his repose. Tossing back the covers he threw open his door and ran along the passageway. He found his sons already in their young guest's room; they having been similarly alerted to his distress.

The boy was clearly in the grips of a nightmare. His eyes were closed as he tossed and thrashed about. His pale cheeks glistened with tears.

It was a disturbing sight but the boy's anguished pleas were even more harrowing. He was calling for his father, begging him to wake up, to not be dead.

Scott had been the first to reach Jesse and after turning up the bedside lamp had calmly sat alongside him, grasping hold of his thin shoulders.

Murdoch and his younger son stood just feet away; silently watching as the blond Lancer gently but firmly shook Jesse awake, while at the same time, soothing him with softly spoken words of reassurance.

When awareness finally began to return Jesse clung to the older man, mercifully finding some comfort in the arms that surrounded him.

Murdoch shifted uncomfortably, feeling so very helpless. Sensing Johnny did too he asked the younger man to go to the kitchen and warm up some milk. He hoped it would help settle the boy back to sleep.

As he watched his barefooted son disappear out through the door the eldest Lancer decided he too needed to do something of use.

So while Johnny busied himself downstairs, Murdoch gathered some clean sheets from the linen cupboard. The boy was lathered with sweat and the patriarch reasoned his bed had to be equally as damp.

Then, deciding Jesse might want a little more time to compose himself, Murdoch moved back, hovering by the open bedroom door. He could hear Jesse talking to Scott, knew he should move away, out of earshot, but the boy was voicing a fear he believed he needed to know about; one that had most likely been the cause of his nightmare.

It seemed the boy was beginning to believe his father didn't want him or worse still was dead. Between hitching breaths Murdoch heard him implore Scott, "So why hasn't he sent for me? He promised he would, didn't he Scott?"

"Yes he did but...," the brief pause told Murdoch his son was weighing his words carefully, "...but sometimes promises prove a little difficult to keep. We don't know what his circumstances are, they may be..."

"You don't think he's dead...like Sam?"

"We have no reason to believe he is."

Murdoch knew it wasn't quite the answer Jesse was wanting but it was the only one anyone could truthfully give him.

Hearing Johnny's soft tread on the stairwell he stepped back into Jesse's room. The boy was now resting back against his pillows, although a lot calmer he looked pale and exhausted.

As always the boy did what was asked of him. After freshening up and changing into a clean nightshirt Jesse downed his warm milk and climbed into the freshly made bed.

Colour had now returned to his cheeks, and the drawn, troubled countenance of just minutes ago had been replaced by a sleepy mien.

Murdoch had intended sitting with his charge until he'd fallen back to sleep, but the boy had insisted there was no need that he was fine.

Finally, although a little reluctant to leave Jesse, all three Lancer men abided by his wishes and made their way silently along the hallway to their own rooms.

In sombre moods, they wished each other goodnight leaving any discussion on what had happened until the morning.

JMLJMLJML

He was tired from a day's toil and drained by what had taken place in Jesse's room, but Scott knew he would be unable to sleep.

Ignoring his bed he padded over to the high backed chair situated by the window and wearily sat down upon it.

Moonlight fell about him, pale, cool, and tranquil. If only he could absorb a little of its essence.

Jesse's anguish had deeply unsettled him. More than it should he supposed, but then, he'd experienced similar torment during his own childhood, and knew all too well the crushing ache that went hand in hand with the sense of abandonment.

His and Jesse's circumstances differed immensely of course but still there were aspects he could easily identify with.

He had needed answers, reasons, and most of all had longed for contact of some kind.

He had had bad dreams too, and had woken up with tears coursing down his cheeks. But there had been no one to comfort him: no one to share his troubled thoughts and fears with.

His grandfather always seemed loathe to speak of Murdoch Lancer, the very mention of his name darkened his mood. What little his grandfather did impart made it quite clear Murdoch Lancer hadn't wanted a burdensome child in his life, and that Scott was better off without him in his.

He had been expected to accept that and move on. That was the end of the discussion, as far as his grandfather had been concerned. But Scott had not been able to accept what he didn't understand.

So unable to speak to his grandfather or the reserved household staff he had silenced his curiosity and learned to keep his emotions in check.

It was still early days where Jesse was concerned. His father had promised to send for him and Scott had heard sincerity in his voice. He had been certain that somehow Ben Hughes would keep his word.

Jesse had quite early on asked Scott if he thought his father would send for him and he had readily assured the boy he would.

Suddenly he wasn't so sure.

One thing he was sure of though was that whatever happened, Jesse would have the care and support he needed here at Lancer; just like tonight.

JMLJML

Johnny flopped onto his bed and silently berated himself. Only now did it occur to him that Jesse hadn't been his usual self the last few days. He'd obviously had something on his mind and now it was painfully clear what it was.

The kid had needed to talk and would have opened up if given the opportunity, but they had all been so busy with ranch work.

He'd been quiet over supper, picked at his food and when questioned by Murdoch had blamed tiredness for his lack of appetite.

No one had pushed the point. Maybe if they had he would have shared something with them; or at least given some indication to there being something wrong.

Jesse had since he'd been well enough, been helping out around the ranch. He'd thrown himself into every chore and task handed him. The kid had good reason to be exhausted, but was his exertion the only cause?

Had he been laying awake each night dwelling on things? Were nightmares disturbing his sleep? Surely he, Scott, or his father, would have heard him before tonight if that was so?

Johnny hated the thought of Jesse trying to deal with it all on his own.

Alone was a miserable place to be at the best of times. Pile on fears and insecurities and...Well no kid should have to go through that.

He'd been all alone at fourteen; alone in every sense of the word. He'd been angry, and hate filled, and all that ugliness had been aimed at one man, his father.

'No!' He scolded himself 'Why was he going there now? That part of his life was over and done with. This was about Jesse, not him.'

And Jesse loved his father. He loved and missed him badly. He needed him and through no fault of Jesse's the man wasn't there.

'Jesse did know that didn't he?' Johnny asked himself, 'he wasn't blaming himself in any way, was he?'

The dark haired Lancer sighed wearily, he'd blamed himself ... 'Damn!' He was doing it again, comparing his experience with Jesse's. That wasn't going to help the kid!

'It was,' Johnny realised, 'all just a little too close to home.' Like it or not Jesse's situation was breathing life into things he'd believed were long since buried.

Shifting into a more comfortable position the troubled Lancer closed his eyes and hoped sleep would come.

JMLJML

Murdoch stepped into his room. Normally he would close the door, but after what had just occurred he decided to leave it ajar.

Moving over to his window he stared out into the night, his thoughts centred on the man he'd met only briefly and in what could only be deemed as extraordinary circumstances.

Ben Hughes was a widower, he had lost one son and was separated from another. The Lancer patriarch had known similar heartache and had been able to genuinely sympathise.

Because he had that depth of understanding Murdoch had been certain Hughes would send for or maybe even return for his youngest son, and couldn't help but worry how that would play out considering all that had happened.

Samuel Hughes' death had compounded an already difficult situation. The grieving father would want answers, reasons, and perhaps even revenge.

Murdoch could understand that too, but knew it would serve no purpose, that it would only decimate the Hughes family further.

Jesse had said that his family's land had been taken from them wrongly and from what the Lancers' lawyer representatives in Nevada had managed to find out that seemed to be the case.

That loss of land had been the first in a tragic chain of events. For Jesse's sake at least that chain had to be broken, and wrongs had to somehow be put right.

Ben and his two older sons Will and Joe were, as far as Murdoch knew, still on the run. It was a dangerous existence, one that could have further impact on the life of the fourteen year old boy in his care.

Jesse deserved so much better. He was a fine boy, a credit to those who had raised him. As well as being disarmingly open, he was honest, trusting, well mannered, and respectful. The youth was also very bright, had a great thirst for knowledge, and Scott had been happy to satisfy that need. The elder Lancer son tutored Jesse for several hours each evening, clearly enjoying the experience.

From what Jesse had shared with Murdoch it was obvious that the boy had had a happy and nurturing home life. His mother's death had rocked the family, but they had pulled together and had been working through their grief and getting on with life.

Then greed had raised its ugly head, and in trying to defend and hold onto what was rightfully theirs, a decent family had been turned into outlaws over night.

Murdoch's lawyer believed their actions to be mitigating, and that that fact could be used successfully in their defence. Still that success could be tempered by their deeds since!

It was now almost three months since the Hughes family had so dramatically entered into the Lancer's living room and life.

There had been no word from them since their equally dramatic exit. Hopefully they were keeping their heads down, avoiding situations that could drag them deeper into trouble. If they returned under those circumstances, determined to sort things out through legal means, and with Jesse's welfare the uppermost in their minds, it would make letting the boy go fairly straightforward.

But that tragic night the Hughes' situation had been dire, and desperate men did desperate things. So, it was what may have happened in the time since that now troubled Murdoch. Had things spiralled still further out of control? Jesse's father and brothers may be changed men and perhaps not for the better.

Maybe circumstances were preventing them coming back for Jesse and maybe just maybe it was best if they didn't!

His younger son had voiced that very same belief the day he'd told Jesse about his brother's death. The statement had been fuelled by emotion and before he was in receipt of any of the facts. Murdoch had thought it only fair they reserve judgement back then, but now that the boy was a part of their lives it wasn't so easy to take that step back.

Seeing Jesse so distraught had really shook Murdoch. He'd like to have damned Hughes for letting it come to this, but he of all people knew how circumstance could work against a man and keep him from those he loved.

He'd been separated from his sons; they had grown up believing he didn't want them. Seeing Jesse's tears, hearing his distress, Murdoch had had a glimpse of their pain.

His boys knew the truth about him now, but it had taken too long to unite his family.

He hoped with all his heart that Jesse's upturned world would be righted and soon.

It certainly looked hopeful as regards the Hughes' land in Nevada, but in regards to obtaining justice for Samuel Hughes, well that was far less certain.

All Val had so far was the word of a fourteen year old boy. Pit that against the word of four respected ranchers and there was little he could do. The Sheriff believed that testimony from the other family members would give the Hughes' case some credence. But he and the Lancer family now realised that the only way they could be proven innocent was if Morgan or one of his cohorts changed their story, and admitted their fatal mistake. That was highly unlikely now; they all had too much to lose.

The patriarch's countenance turned grim, as things stood he realised he couldn't let Jesse return to his family. Should they get in touch he would make his position clear.

JMLJML

He had once looked up at the night sky in awe; it had a simple beauty, a quiet restful charm.

But it had lost its appeal the night his Annie died. His grief had torn him apart; he'd never known such pain before.

But his boys had helped him through it, and had stood by him when it had all started to go wrong.

He knew in his bones Jesse was alive just like he knew his first born son was dead.

God forgive him! He'd left Sam's body there. He'd left Jesse behind too, but he knew exactly where to find him.

Pulling his blanket up over his shoulders Ben Hughes rolled onto his side, his eyes instantly settling on his other two sons.

The moonlight made them look so very young, boyish almost. The strain and heartache of the last few months erased temporarily by sleep.

He was as exhausted as they but sleep for him was fitful and would be until his mind was at peace.

That wouldn't be until he'd reclaimed his land and taken down all those responsible for Sam's death.

TBC

Molly


End file.
